


Tales from the Holy Planet

by Callmesalticidae, shadow_wasserson



Series: The Gods Have Horns [7]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Anthology, Gen, Myths and folklore, This too shall pass
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-27
Updated: 2015-06-14
Packaged: 2018-03-16 14:14:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3491384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Callmesalticidae/pseuds/Callmesalticidae, https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadow_wasserson/pseuds/shadow_wasserson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Legends, fairy tales, and assorted documents from the universe of "The Gods Have Horns."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Parable of Wheat and Millstone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A legend of the Maid of Time.

Many centuries ago in Italy, it is said, there was a woman by the name of Libera Fiorentini, who was renowned for her compassion and for her wisdom. And it came to pass that Libera married, and for the sake of her wisdom she married well.

In the fullness of time a child was born to them, but it soon came to pass that the child died. And Libera wept for the sake of her child, and went from house to house, and from town to town, in search of a remedy to return her child to her. And when she got to the ascetic who paints with bone, and made her plea, he told her to wait with him through the night, until the coming of the Maid of Time, Holy and Unborn.

When the Maid of Time came to them, Libera pleaded with her to restore the life of her child. And the Maid of Time said, “I can do this thing for you, but first I require of you two things: Wheat from a household which has never known death, and a millstone with which to grind it, from one who has neither father nor mother. I have subsisted for a long time on only the ashes of the dead, but with these things you will grind flour and offer it to me, and with the power of it I will restore your son to you forevermore.”

So Libera went out and inquired of every household, whether they had wheat to spare, or a millstone. And in every case where this was so, she asked them if this household had been spared the knowledge of death, or if any within had neither mother nor father. And in every case she was left unsatisfied.

Libera returned to the ascetic who paints with bone, and waited with him again for the coming of the Maid of Time. And when she saw the goddess, she said, weeping, “Once I thought myself to be the only one to know death, and suffer thus, and in my foolishness I thought that my pain was foreign to the world, but now I know that this is the condition of all humankind, and that there is no escape.”

And the Maid of Time embraced her, and said, “Today you are made wise. For whosoever is born of man and woman must perish, and think no more, neither dream— Only if one is self-created, from beginningless time to endless time, can that one truly live, and all other things are but shadows on the stage; Yea, even the stars must perish in their time. This is the Way, even as I am the Way.”

* * *

> TODAY’S LESSON: From nothing doth a man come, and to nothing shall he return. This is the fate of all creatures. Thus it is said, “And it is all one to me where I am to begin, for I shall return there again.”
> 
> TODAY’S PRAYER: O Maid, Page, and Prince, grant me the serenity to accept things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.

_—_   _Meditations on the Way_ , entry for the 8th of Aries


	2. Godfather Rage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A fairy tale from the Brothers Grimm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dialogue by the gods is presented in their color in mimicry of the "Red-letter Bibles" which present the words of Jesus in red. This practice is probably common in the world of The Gods Have Horns; the existence of the Tinge makes it a very small conceptual jump.

Once upon a time there was an exceedingly poor widower who worked night and day to feed his twelve children. And so it came to pass that when his brother and sister-in-law died, leaving behind their infant son, he fell into a deep despair.

As he knew that he would be able to leave no inheritance for the child, he began to search for a godparent to stand for the boy and to give him an inheritance when he came of age. But as he went from door to door throughout his little village he began to grow more and more sorrowful, for there was no-one who was willing to be a godparent for his nephew.

At last he went away from the final door and turned himself to the forest. Perhaps in the next village over he would find someone who could be godparent to the boy, he thought, but it was without any hope at all that he went forth.

On the way over, however, he came across a tall woman in a shroud. The woman asked him, “What are you in search of?” He answered her, saying, “I am poor and with little at all to give my own children, and yet I have been given the care over my orphan nephew. I am looking for a godparent, who will be able to provide what I cannot.” And the woman said, “Make me his godmother, and I will give him a long life, and thick bones, and all the world will forget the tales of Heracles and tell stories of your nephew instead; I am moved to pity by your tale.”

The man asked, “Who are you?” The woman removed her shroud and revealed horns, and said, “I am the Witch, who takes bone in her hand and shapes it as she wills.”

“Then I will not give my nephew over to you,” said the man. “For you say that you can give life, and all the stories say that this is true, but my wife died in childbirth, and half my countrymen when I was young and the plague swept through, and my parents of old age. I will not give my nephew over to you, when you hold Life in your hands but will not dispense it freely to all.”

“Let it be so,” the Witch said. “I will hold no quarrel with you, nor with the boy.”

The man left her and continued on his way, but soon enough he came upon a second figure, arrayed in splendorous armor. Again the man was asked, “What are you in search of?” and the man answered, saying, “I am searching for a godparent for my nephew, for his other kin are dead and I myself cannot provide all that duty demands.” And the figure said, “Make me his godfather, and I will give him a loyalty that shall outlast the stars, and in every generation it will be said that there was none more faithful than your nephew.”

Again the man asked, “Who are you?” The figure removed its armor and revealed horns, and said, “I am the Knight, who bleeds and dies for those that he calls friends.”

“Then I will not give my nephew over to you,” said the man. “For I was a soldier for my lord, who had my loyalty as you wish for my nephew to have the loyalty of others, and I fought in the wars of my lord. And my friends fought with me and we all bled, and they died, and I was left with a limp in my leg, which has never healed. But my lord forgot me as soon as I became weak. I will not give my nephew over to you, when Blood has failed me once already, so that it may somehow fail him in turn.”

“Let it be so,” the Knight said. “I will hold no quarrel with you, nor with the boy.”

Once again the man continued on his way, but he was stopped for a third time by a man dressed in rags, who lay on the side of the road. A third time the poor man was asked, “What are you in search of?” and he answered as he had before. And the rag-man said, “Make me his godfather, brother, and I will make it so that the strength of his grasp will never be outmatched by the strength of his desire.”

A third time the man asked, “Who are you?” The man removed his rags and revealed horns, and said, “I am the Bard, brother, and I am the Carnival.”

And in his heart the man despaired, for he knew much of the Bard. And though the gift of any god might have been terrible, he wished that he had taken what had been offered by the Witch or the Knight. For it was that to accept a gift of the Bard could be to accept a curse, but to refuse would surely bring down horror on his house. And so the man said, “You will be godfather to the boy. Next Zakhday we shall have the ceremony; be there at the right time, or it cannot be done.” The man hoped that the Bard, mercurial as he was, would decline to show, but to the man’s disappointment and horror the Bard appeared precisely at the right moment, the ceremony went forth without any issue at all, and the Bard was named as godfather to the boy.

The man never saw any more of the Bard from that day forth, but it came to pass that after the boy had grown, and become a man himself, that the Bard came to him and told him of the boon that had been promised. And the godson was pleased, for he had desired many things that he had not the strength to get, and so he went out into the world, and of all the things that his eyes fell upon, which he desired, he had power to obtain the same.

The godson become a soldier, as he desired glory, and even as he desired glory a war was spilled out across the whole face of the land. The kingdom tore itself apart, and brother turned against brother, as if all men had been let loose of the restraints which kept them peaceable in their relations with one another, and whatsoever a man desired to do, he set out to accomplish, so that there were many murders for the sake of greed and the rivers became choked with bodies. In the midst of the war the Bard’s godson grew mighty indeed, and obtained a great reputation in the land and in all the lands about it, for his enemies were unable to restrain themselves against him but turned battle-mad and fell before his sword like the wheat before the scythe.

After this manner he did obtain many riches and much honor, but when he came home to visit his uncle and his cousins he saw to his despair that all his kin had been slain, and the village of his childhood had been made a blackened ruin, in which their bodies did cover the ground, even so that they stained the soil red and were fodder for a great many crows.

This sight filled the godson with horror, and when he returned to his encampment he could neither eat nor drink, nor take pleasure in the camp followers who exchanged flesh for coin, nor in the brutishness of those who fought for the entertainment of those at the supping table. But in the process of time the weakness of his body faded, and there was only that revulsion which remained in his mind and tormented his dreams. And his hand was slow to the blade in accordance with the blood-lust of his heart, and his tongue was slow to utter his desires, until it came to pass that a beggar minstrel came through their camp and found private audience the godson, who was pleased to be distracted from his ceaseless meditations on the death that he had wrought. The minstrel then revealed himself to be the Bard, who snarled and cackled, saying, “I would be ill-pleased if you rejected my gift, son, for I am generous and I dislike to see my generosity spurned. Is it not so, son, that I, a god of the Zodiac, did offer to stand as godfather for an orphan whelp? But I am merciful as much as I am generous, and I will give you another chance. Do not leave my gift by the wayside, and neither restrain your desires any longer, and I will not find offense in thee.”

The words of the Bard troubled the godson, and for a night, and a day, and another night he refused to speak to anyone at all. But then the fear which he had for the Bard overpowered all his other emotions, and he went forth from out of the tent once more and took place at the head of his forces. The armies of his foes all fell before the blades of his soldiers, and their commanders he slew himself, and his clothes were ever stained brown and red with dried and drying blood, so that they could never be fully cleaned and none would now suspect the original color of his garments.

Through the four corners of the kingdom he went, and in his wake was left famine and pestilence, and the bodies his enemies were piled up like mountains. For he still desired glory and power, and he could not cease from wanting these things even as they drove him to holding a sickness in his mind, and he screamed in the night because of the things that he saw in his dreams. And even as he still wanted these things he was driven to seek after them, for he had not forgotten the warning which his godfather the Bard had given him.

And it came to pass that one day his liege, who had become the king for cause of the wars which the godson had waged, did call him into the royal court to pay him honor for his deeds. The godson knelt before his liege, and as the king stood before him and paid him honor he did thrust with the knife and plant it in the heart of the king. He wept, and then he stabbed again, and then cut off the head of the king, for he did desire to rule the land himself and he was not permitted to hold back his hand from anything which his heart desired.

War came again the kingdom, and again the kingdom was divided, but the godson took those forces which were loyal to him and they swept forth through the land, killing all those who opposed his rule. They killed many, and many of them were killed in turn, and they slew thousands, and then hundreds, and then dozens, till it came to pass that only a few remained on each side. And the leader of the enemy camp sent forth an envoy, suing for peace and to divide the land between them both, so that the few which still lived might live in peace. For surely, said the leader through his envoy, there were so few of them alive that even a divided kingdom would be very large for them all.

But the godson could not forget what he desired, which was the whole of the kingdom, and he smote off the head of the envoy and sent it back on a crippled horse. And the two camps went again to war, and they fought, until only the godson and his foe were left, and the godson killed the man, and then fainted for the sake of the day’s heat and for want of blood. His dreams then were horrible indeed, even more horrible than they had been before, and he saw in his dream each person who had died by his hands or for the sake of his desires, and his spirit was made more sickened than it had ever been before.

The next morning he awoke, and he saw Bard sitting before him, drenched in gore. “You have not obtained all that you desire,” he said, and all that the Bard’s godson could say in return was, “No.” And the Bard said, “You must reach out further to obtain these things, for you desire yet more glory, and greater riches, and to hold dominion over every land which you behold.”

The man protested, saying that he did desire these things, but that he more desired peace, and to see the shedding of blood no more in all his days, for the slaking of his hunger had not satisfied it, but only seen it grow, and all the while he had sowed horror across the land.

“Perhaps you feel such things,” the Bard said, “but they are not true desires. They are shackles on your soul, and they keep you from fulfilling your wants. Now get up, for you desire glory and riches and you shall never be satisfied with them, for this is the other part of my gift to you: that just as your reach will never exceed your grasp, so too will you never reach far enough.”

The Bard’s godson begged with him, and pleaded, and refused to go out and wage war or spill blood any longer, and with every word the Bard grew angrier and became fiercer in his countenance. But the godson did not abate his protestations, until the Bard struck him and broke half the bones of his body.

Then, weeping and shaking, the godson listened as the Bard spoke again. “I am generous, son, and I am proud in myself, and my pride is not to be given insult. But I am also merciful, son, and I gave my boon to you for you were my godson. Do not fear, my son, for I will make you whole, and I will give you the desire which is greater than all desires, and you will have fame and power and carnage without an end.” And the Bard gave his greatest gift to the godson, and the both of them went away with much shrieking and gnashing of teeth to the Dark Carnival, where the beast in every person is loosed and all men do as their spirits lead them away to do.

 


End file.
